


Dream-Catcher

by LadyRhiyana



Series: Time travel and other twists [11]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Dreamsharing, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:35:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25343302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyRhiyana/pseuds/LadyRhiyana
Summary: Brienne's soul mark manifested when she was seven years old. It was a strong mark, and the dream-sharing began almost immediately.“It’s too soon,” Septa Roelle said. “She’s too young. She can’t separate herself from her soul-mate – she’ll become too tangled with him.”
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Time travel and other twists [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1305521
Comments: 62
Kudos: 277





	Dream-Catcher

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever attempt at a soul-mate fic. Hopefully this is an interesting take on the trope.
> 
> For the purposes of this fic, I have aged Brienne up a little. 
> 
> (PS: My apologies for the title!)

Brienne’s soul mark manifested when she was seven years old. It was a strong mark, fully materialised, rather than the pale, washed-out marks most children had until they reached maturity – _her soul-mate has a strong personality_ , the old women whispered. _And the connection is a powerful one._

Brienne was secretly proud of her mark.

Whenever the other children teased her for being too-tall, too-ugly, she would stroke her fingers over it and take solace in the thought that somewhere in the world, there was a person who belonged solely to her.

A handsome prince, perhaps, or a chivalrous knight. But whoever he – or she – was, they would be the other half of her soul, and together they would be whole.

**

With such a strong mark, it came as no surprise that the dream-sharing began almost immediately.

The morning after her first soul-mate dream, she ran to her father to tell him.

He and Galladon were breaking their fast in the solar. Septa Roelle was there as well, looking disapproving as always. 

“Father!” Brienne cried, her skirts flying and her hair every which way. “Father, I dreamed! We were in a battle and we became a knight!” 

Galladon scoffed. He hadn’t got his soul-mark yet, despite being three years older; Brienne stuck her tongue out at him, pleased that she could do something he could not.

“It’s too soon, my lord,” Septa Roelle said, looking like she was sucking on a lemon. “She’s too young. She can’t separate herself from her soul-mate – she’ll become too tangled with him.”

Her father got a little crease between his brows, like he was thinking of something unpleasant. He looked at Brienne. “What did you see, daughter?” he asked.

“There was a battle in a dark wood!” she exclaimed excitedly. “We knelt before a man with a pale sword, and he made us knights.”

The crease between her father’s brows deepened.

“Brienne,” he said gravely, “when you dream, you must learn to keep your own self distinct from your soul-mate. Think,” he said. “Did you see your face in a mirror, perhaps, or a pool of water?”

Brienne scrunched up her nose and frowned. “We were a boy,” she said doubtfully. “And we had curly hair.”

“Good,” her father said. “Good. Listen, Brienne. You must remember that when you dream, they are not your dreams but your soul-mate’s. It is not your life you see, but theirs. You cannot lose sight of who you are.” 

**

The second time she dreamed, they were not in a dark wood but on one of the white-sand beaches of Tarth, dabbling their feet in the water.

Brienne tried to remember what her father had said. _Keep your own self distinct. Remember that you are two_.

“What is this place?” a voice asked.

She looked to her right, and saw her soul-mate for the first time. He was a boy, tall and handsome, with golden curls and green eyes.

“This is Tarth,” she replied.

His eyes widened when he saw her. “This is a soul-mate dream,” he said. “You’re not –” he stopped.

“Not what?” she demanded.

“Not who I expected.”

Brienne bit her lip. “Who were you expecting?”

But he refused to answer, and the dream came to an end. 

**

Most people, when they shared dreams with their soul-mates, had them rarely, and rarely remembered the details.

Brienne had vivid dreams nearly every night.

Sometimes they were like the first dream, the powerful dream where she saw through her soul-mate’s eyes and she couldn’t figure out where he ended and she began.

Other times, they were like the second dream – just Brienne and her soul-mate, in a lonely location, the only two people in the world. Sometimes they met on Tarth, by the water; sometimes on a high cliff overlooking a deep green sea, a place he called Casterly Rock.

They talked, in those dreams. Despite the age difference between them, she thought she could tell him anything and he would understand.

**

Once, she dreamed that they met a golden-haired girl in an inn.

Brienne did not understand what happened, not the kissing or the other things, only that they would do anything, anything for the girl.

**

“…the connection is too strong,” Septa Roelle hissed, speaking to her father late at night. “We must put a stop to it.”

 _No_ , Brienne thought, desperately covering her soul-mark with her hand, as though she could protect it from her septa’s cruelty.

He was _her_ soul-mate, and she wanted to keep him.

**

She dreamed that they knelt before the king and a white cloak was clasped about their shoulders.

**

But then – then –

The dreams turned to nightmares. Over and over, she dreamed of people screaming as bright green flames burned them alive, and woke shrieking in terror with the smell of acrid smoke and roasting flesh lingering for hours afterwards.

“He’s burning them,” was all she could say, all she could choke out as she sobbed into her father’s shoulder. “He’s burning them alive.”

When she met her soul-mate on the lonely beach or on the high cliffs, he looked – pale, and desperate, huge black circles under his eyes and his hands shaking.

He started sharing _her_ dreams, running over the hot white sand and throwing themselves into the water, shrieking splashing fights with Galladon, floating on their backs in the ocean, with the up-and-down motion of the waves rocking them gently, peacefully into oblivion.

**

It got to the point where Brienne could no longer bear the smell of roasting pork.

**

“Brienne,” her father said solemnly. “Sweetling. I have sent for a learned maester from the Citadel. He has spent his life studying the mysteries of soul-mates.”

“Father,” Brienne said, cupping her hand over her soul-mark. “I don’t –”

Her father only looked grave and tired. His shoulders were bowed, and he took her hand in his. “I think we must close the connection, at least until you are older.”

“No!” she cried, but her father was adamant.

Septa Roelle dug her bony fingers into Brienne’s arm and dragged her kicking and screaming before the visiting maester.

He was a kindly old man, with peering blue eyes and a gentle smile. “The soul-mate bond is a gift to be treasured,” he said, “but sometimes it manifests too early. When the partners are unequal in age and experience, it can lead to unbalanced consequences.”

Brienne did not understand what he was talking about.

“Listen, child,” the maester said. “Those whom the gods have joined, no mere man can tear asunder. But we may be able to temporarily halt the dream-sharing, at least. And in time, when you are old enough – and secure enough in your self – the connection will reset automatically.”

**

Brienne wept as she was severed from her soul-mate.

But Galladon drowned soon after, and she soon had many other griefs and hurts to bear; the loss of her soul-mate simply became one among many, eventually forgotten.

She did not see him again for long, long years – until she accompanied Lady Catelyn to the Kingslayer’s cell, deep in the dungeons of Riverrun. And even then she did not recognise the boy she had once known in her dreams.

It was only when she saw him stripped of all his defences and disguises, naked in the baths at Harrenhal, that she began to remember.

**

[Jaime’s soul mark manifested when he was fifteen.

He didn’t pay it much attention. He was a man grown. He already knew that he and Cersei were one soul in two bodies.

Still, he didn’t mind – much – talking to the strange little girl in his dreams. She had big blue eyes, and she wanted to be a knight. She was an innocent, and her world was simple and uncomplicated – her dreams became a welcome escape from reality.

When the connection was abruptly severed, he found himself strangely upset.

By that time, however, he had troubles enough of his own.

**

He did not see her again for long, long years, and even when he saw her again he did not recognise her.

But he lay down to sleep in a weirwood grove, and when he woke with the dawn he knew.

“I dreamed of you,” he said, when he returned to save her.]


End file.
